


Let Me

by Zedrobber



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, bad language, gene is bad at feelings, in which sam wants to talk and gene has trauma, mention of past child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zedrobber/pseuds/Zedrobber
Summary: Sam & Gene have been fucking for a while now- but Gene is literally The Worst at actually discussing anything, and Sam is getting frustrated.Short fic, doesn't have spoilers or anything.





	Let Me

“Not everything has to be a fight, Guv.”

Sam rubbed his arm, irritated, and looked sidelong at Gene.

Gene grunted and looked away. 

It was starting to become a pattern- they’d been fucking for a few months; glorious weeks in which they had discussed what they were doing precisely never. They’d fucked over, on, or against almost every conceivable surface, viciously and frequently, Gene’s rough hands roaming Sam’s body and his teeth leaving marks that were hidden by his shirt, and still they hadn’t had a single conversation about it.

And every time Sam tried to touch him- touch him with anything other than fists, anything gentle or reassuring or loving- Gene flinched back, turned it into a fight, responded blindly with a punch or a chokehold or by pinning Sam to the nearest wall. 

It wasn’t just that, either- Sam saw Gene hesitate, in those moments after sex; hesitate as though wanting desperately to touch him but stopped by something Sam could only guess at. 

_ Touch starvation _ , Sam’s brain kept telling him, despite Gene’s seeming aversion to being touched. There was something not right about it, something that kept niggling at him. 

 

“Wasn’t fighting, Tyler.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Could have fooled me.” 

“That’s not exactly difficult.”

 

They leaned back against the headboard, Gene smoking, Sam’s body aching pleasantly. He tried not to mention to Gene that this was the longest they’d stayed in the same place after sex, knowing that would ruin it. His fingers itched to stroke through Gene’s hair, tousled and soft, or to run his fingertips over the freckle-dusted skin of Gene’s shoulder. He dared to do neither.

“What exactly is your problem, Gene?”

Gene turned his head, puzzled. “What imaginary crime have I committed now, Sam? Honestly, your head is as complicated as a bird’s.”

“We fuck,” Sam said, picking his words as he went.  _ Apparently we’re having this conversation. _ “But we don’t talk-”

“About our feelings?” Gene interrupted. 

“-about it, and when I try to touch you-”

“Girl.”

“-you punch me, or kick me, or start a fight,” Sam finished gamely. Gene didn’t answer for a moment, and Sam had to look to check he hadn’t fallen asleep. Gene looked back at him, eyes dark and inscrutable, cigarette forgotten between loose fingers. Sam bit back the urge to tell him not to drop ash on the blankets. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.

“Maybe I just don’t want your nancy girly hands on me,” Gene said finally, almost reluctantly.

“You don’t seem to mind when your cock is in me and it’s my nails on your back,” Sam said pointedly.

Gene’s eye twitched but he didn’t rise to the bait.

“And you don’t mind when my hand is on your dick.”

“S’different,” Gene muttered, tapping his cigarette into a glass beside the bed without even looking at it. 

“Why?”

“Can you stop playing detective for one night, Sam?”

“No.”

 

Silence again, and Gene looked away to stare at the far wall as though lost in thought. Sam started to doze off despite himself, the warm weight of Gene beside him somehow comforting.

 

“Men do not cuddle,” he said suddenly, as if to himself. “Or  _ snuggle _ , or do girly touching, or discuss our  _ bloody feelings. _ ”

“Where I come from, they can.”

But as soon as he said it, Sam realised that he was lying to himself. Even in 2006, men were aggressively socialised into behaving like brutish cavemen- it was just more insidiously enforced.

“Well where you come from must be full of nancies. No wonder you turned out so queer.”

Sam rolled his eyes but said nothing.

 

“You ever been hit because you fell over and cried? Because you wanted your dad to pick you up, tell you it would be okay, but that wasn’t allowed?” Gene’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“No.”

“Perhaps you got beaten up in school because you wanted to give a friend a hug and he thought you were trying to come on to him.”

“No.”

“Maybe you were given the belt by your father at the merest hint of affection between you and your brother when he was all you had in the world?”

“Gene-”

“Shut up, Tyler. You have no  _ idea _ about me. You don’t know a bloody thing and there you are, asking questions like you’re my bloody therapist, like I’m supposed to tell you every sordid detail about my life and you’ll just sit there and judge-”

“I wouldn’t.”

Gene snorted derisively. “You judge everyone by your clearly immaculate moral standards, Tyler. I’ve watched you long enough.”

“If you just let me-”

“Let you  _ what _ , exactly? Say there there, I’m sorry you grew up like every other poor fucker? Pat my shoulder and tell me how brave I am? Fuck off.”

 

Sam gritted his teeth and reached out his hand, heart hammering in his chest. He pushed his fingers into Gene’s hair, feeling the soft warmth of it and curling his palm against Gene’s scalp tenderly. Gene froze, barely seeming to breathe for a moment, and Sam worked up the nerve to slide his fingertips through the hair, stroking and caressing and delighting in the sensation. 

“Tyler-” Gene warned, but his voice cracked dangerously on the end of Sam’s name and a soft noise of pleasure escaped him.

“Let me,” Sam pleaded, and Gene said nothing as he leaned his head into Sam’s touch with a barely audible sigh of relief. Sam felt like he had a wild animal under his hands- one that had decided to trust him with its life, for perhaps only a moment. 

 

A full minute of silence later, Sam felt Gene’s breath hitch, and he frowned. “Are you alright, Guv?”

“Fine.”

But there was a fragile quality to Gene’s voice that Sam recognised far too well, and he stroked his fingers soothingly over Gene’s scalp. “This okay?”

“S’nice, yeah.”

“Good.”

“Sam-” Gene started, but he couldn’t get further, a traitorous sob slipping from his mouth before he could stop himself. Horrified, he stopped talking.

“It’s okay, Gene. Don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“I’m not bloody crying, you great girly, nancy, queer bastard,” Gene said, glaring up at Sam with his eyes shining wet and scared. 

“Of course not, Guv.”

“Shut up.”

Sam said nothing, continuing to stroke methodically through Gene’s hair and feeling Gene relax against him again. He didn’t comment when he felt Gene’s breathing stutter, and he said nothing when he heard him start to cry as silently as he’d ever heard anyone manage. 

 

Eventually, Gene’s breathing evened out again and he swiped a furious hand over his eyes. Sam stayed quiet, letting Gene get himself under control before he spoke.

“What are we, Guv?” he asked eventually, when Gene had fallen silent.

“Well, you’re a pain in my arse, and I’m perpetually disappointed.”

“Gene.”

“What do you want me to say, Sammy boy? We are what we are.” He shifted his weight closer to Sam, leaning against his shoulder.

“And that’s okay?”

“What?”

“Us. Being a ‘we’.”

“If you like.” Beneath the amused acceptance of Gene’s tone, Sam swore he could hear something golden and breathless, and he smiled to himself.

“Good.”

Gene shook his head, but it was fond. “You can’t turn off the questions, can you.”

“It’s what makes me such a good detective.”

“You wish. Shift your arse down a bit, I’m bloody cold.”

Sam obliged and Gene hauled the covers back up around their shoulders, settling down onto his back.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Sam asked, frowning.

Gene extended his arm. “Come on if you’re coming.”

Trying not to grin stupidly, Sam wriggled closer, tucking himself in against Gene’s shoulder and feeling Gene wrap his arm around him awkwardly. 

He had almost dozed off again when he felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head.

  
  



End file.
